The Needle Tears a Hole
by whowhatsitwhich
Summary: It's the ones closest to you that can hurt you the most. One version of what might happen once Daryl finds out about Rick's decision in Indifference. Written for the USS Caryl Music Lyric Drabble/Fanart Challenge.


The Needle Tears a Hole

Song: Hurt

Lyrics:  
_What have I become  
My sweetest friend  
Everyone I know goes away  
In the end  
And you could have it all  
My empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt…..~written by Trent Reznor…sung by Johnny Cash_

You could have heard a pin drop. For the first time, the world was still. He shook his head, hardly believing what he was hearing much less accepting the truth of it. Rick stood, his hand riding the butt of the Python he'd taken to wearing on his hip again, watching him the way he'd watch a rattle snake coiled up and ready to strike. He heard someone hollering and a dust-up as the offender was rudely silenced. He didn't look around, didn't speak. He just kept staring at his friend, his brother, hoping and praying that Rick would take it back. The man continued to look at him with that stupid, solemn expression and he didn't take his hand off his gun.

"What do you mean you left her," his own voice sounded odd in his ears, thick and choked and rough. Was that him? What the fuck? "You just decided on your own that this was the only way. Are we back to that? What you say goes and there's the door if you don't like it."

There. A flinch and lowered eyes. No. He wasn't as sure of his choice as he'd have them believe. He knew this was wrong. It was hasty. It was spur of the moment. It was fucking Carol for Christ's sake.

"She told me," Rick alleged. "She killed them both, Daryl. I wouldn't have believed it either but she said it straight out when I asked her. She was trying to stop the infection and their suffering."

"Then why did you cut her loose," Daryl retorted angrily. "She can't…you didn't..."

Rick's jaw firmed his blue eyes steely as they met Daryl's. "Neither did she. Look, brother, you know I love her as much as you do. We've been through a lot together. But this, Daryl, there's no coming back from this. She killed two of our own in cold blood. It's not the reasons behind it but the fact that she did it at all. She's changed, gotten harder, become cold. I don't want her here, not around Judith and Carl."

Daryl's hand tightened on the stone until a bruise blossomed on his palm. He welcomed the familiar sting, the harsh slap, the pain that anchored him. It steadied him in a way nothing else could. "Can't come back from this? What the hell, Rick? Ain't anybody's hands clean anymore. We've all done things we wish we could take back." He paced back and forth, the jasper biting into his flesh, grinding deeper until blood beaded and coated the facets. "I won't hold it against you but this, man, this was wrong. We can't do things alone anymore, even you."

Rick's jaw dropped, his hand falling to his side as he took a few steps back. "I made the call. I did what I did for the good of the group. I did it for Carol. She wouldn't be safe here, Daryl, not anymore. Tyreese isn't clear now and if he sees her, he won't stop to think about what's right. He'll kill her and there'll be others cheering him on. You want her to have to face that?"

"What I want," Daryl bit out, shoving the bloody jasper into his pocket and straightening the strap angled across his chest. "Fuck, Rick, what I want doesn't matter. She belongs here with us, her fucking family. That's what's right."

The former Deputy stared at him unblinking, his hands opening and closing reflexively. Daryl stared right back, crimson threads breaking trails through the valleys between his fingers and dripping on the pitted concrete. He saw Rick's gaze fall and followed his look, surprised to see the puddle at his feet. He glanced back as Rick's fingers gently pried his hand open to show the angry gash bisecting his palm. It ran true from the base of his thumb to his pinkie. As he watched, blood beaded and pooled, following the lines and folds until it overflowed and slid in rivulets over the side. "Go get her," Rick ordered suddenly, pulling a ratty handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapping it around Daryl's hand. "Bring her home. I don't know what'll happen when you get back but if that's how you want to play it, I'm with you."

Daryl clenched his fist, sending a fresh burst of pain radiating through him, fortifying him for the trip ahead. He clasped Rick on the shoulder and mumbled, "Whatever happens, brother, we're good. You've always done right by me. That's what matters. We'll work this out."

Michonne suddenly appeared at his side, her katana slung over her shoulder and a bag held loosely in her hand. "I'm going with you. You'll need somebody to keep your ass out of trouble." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "The big man might need to be looked over. Wouldn't exactly gentle when I shut him up. Might want to have somebody check him out." Daryl and Rick turned to see Tyreese nursing a split lip and the cut above his eye had reopened. They turned incredulous looks on the stoic woman who actually grinned in response. "What? I said I wouldn't gentle. It's not like I cut off his damned head or something."

Rick laughed the first real one that Daryl had heard from him in a long time. "Guess that takes your name out of the hat for resident diplomat," he quipped. "What'd you hit him with, your fist?"

She snorted, hefting the sheath so they could see tiny flecks of red dotting the white leather. "It was a tap, nothing to get all worked up about. He'll live. Come on, Dixon, move your ass before we lose the light. We've got some miles to cover."

Daryl nodded and strolled off to get the rest of his gear, leaving the other two staring after him. "So why are you letting him go after you decided that she had to leave?" Michonne didn't look his way as she gave voice to the question he was asking himself.

Rick shrugged, rolling his shoulders to ease suddenly tight muscles as he answered. "I cuffed his brother to a roof and left him. I didn't think about what I was doing at the time. I saw something dangerous and did what I had to do to contain it. I did the same with Carol. At the time, it seemed like the only way. That's what I do, I make decisions and then I live with the fall out."

"But sometimes, you change your mind," Michonne reminded. "Sometimes, you see more than what's in front of you. It doesn't make you a bad person, Rick, it just makes you human."

"He'll bring her back," Rick asserted. "He will. And when he does, let's hope the rest of them remember who she is and not just what she's done. Because if they don't, nothing or nobody will be able to save her. Not even Daryl."

"We have to have faith," Michonne patted his shoulder once before dropping her hand and trailing after the hunter leaving Rick alone in the courtyard, her words ringing in his ears.

"Have faith," he repeated once she was out of earshot. "That's easier said than done."

And that…as they say…is that.

A/N Wishful thinking on my part that Rick will, despite his decision, back Daryl if he decides to go after Carol to bring her home. Written for the USS Caryl Music Lyric Drabble/Fanart Challenge on Tumblr. Love you for reading….love it even more if you leave me a review. Thanks.


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